


but i'm in love with someone else

by peraltiaghoe



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, how am i still so bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25337059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiaghoe/pseuds/peraltiaghoe
Summary: I, admittedly, am not a huge fan of soulmate AUs! It’s just not a trope that I’m particularly interested in, therefore I haven’t dabbled much in the fics that have been written for that tag. All that to say that if this has already been done, my apologies. Here’s my take on the “your soulmate’s name appears on your body once you both turn 30” soulmate AU.
Relationships: Amy Santiago/Teddy Wells, Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Sophia Perez
Comments: 28
Kudos: 181
Collections: sHOOKETH's all time favorites





	but i'm in love with someone else

**Author's Note:**

> title from saywecanfly's Someone Else. 
> 
> _You've got a piece of me,_   
>  _You can keep it forever,_   
>  _Can't give you everything,_   
>  _'Cause I barely hold it together,_   
>  _I barely, I barely hold it together,_   
>  _So either take what I give or give yourself to someone better._
> 
> ...
> 
> _For a moment lying next to you,_   
>  _Passed out in that hotel,_   
>  _I thought I could fix your broken pieces,_   
>  _But I'm in love with someone else._

She knew. 

She _knew_. 

She knew that getting into a serious relationship before her thirtieth birthday was a bad idea. She knew, and yet she’d done it anyway. 

Teddy Wells was a good man. They’d been dating for nine months, and she could see comfortably spending the rest of her life with him. She could see warm, cozy nights with him, could see decorating their first home together, could see having a life with no major worries. Teddy was responsible. He was smart, he was handsome, he was hardworking. He was honest. He was sweet. 

So _why_ , then, didn’t the idea of Teddy Wells being her soulmate make her feel excited? 

People talked about finding out who their soulmate was like it was the best thing that had ever happened to them. Amy grew up always hearing the beautiful story about how her parents came to know each other before their thirtieth birthdays, how they had been falling for each other, but keeping their distance, just in case. They were both overjoyed when her mother finally turned thirty and the names appeared. He was already on her doorstep with flowers when she flung the door open, destination set to compare tattoos with him. Small, black script along the inner left wrist—something everyone learned about at a young age, that almost every girl Amy had ever known had fawned over one day wearing. 

Amy had been different. Perhaps it was growing up with seven brothers. She had never been too concerned about learning who her soulmate was. She’d watched as all of her older brothers turned thirty, names appearing immediately for Benji and David, while Tony’s tattoo didn’t appear until he was thirty-two, Eli’s when he was almost thirty-four. Her family (along with, it seemed, everyone she knew) had been counting down the days to her thirtieth, waiting to find out who Amy would be marrying. 

She hadn’t been quite as excited. 

The lack of excitement could be attributed to a variety of things, she thought. For example, her parents and their obvious distaste toward Amy’s choice to date Teddy—something which they’d vehemently advised against. Her brothers had all dated some, but nobody had chosen to start a relationship so close to their thirtieth birthday. _You’re complicating things for yourself, Amy,_ her mother had chided. _What will you do when that boy isn’t your soulmate?_

The answer, quite simply, was that she had no idea what she would do if Teddy wasn’t her soulmate. On paper, it made perfect sense that he would be her soulmate. She had no reason to think that he wouldn’t be. She’d shoved away her mother’s words easily enough over the past few months, but now that her thirtieth birthday was coming—in ten minutes, to be exact—the complication of it all was weighing on her. 

What if he _wasn’t?_ He’d excitedly greet her at dinner, announce a _happy birthday, Amy!_ and she’d… break up with him? Should she thank him before that, or after? Before, probably. 

The thought should devastate her. She really liked Teddy. She was always happy to see him. They had fun together. Quiet, comfortable, familiar fun. He was all she could ask for in a boyfriend, in a husband, in a soulmate. 

Her stomach twisted in knots, and she couldn’t tell if the feeling stemmed from the possibility that he _would_ be her soulmate or, alternatively, that he wouldn’t be. He wanted to stay at her apartment with her, to _celebrate_ , but she’d politely declined his offer. She’d see him at dinner the following night, and that would have to be enough. 

Amy cautioned her thoughts, taking care to avoid one topic in particular as she awaited her fate. That topic, the one that complicated things more than she’d ever care to admit, was tugging at her brain, _begging_ to be confronted, but she couldn’t allow it—or _him_ —to thread his way through her thoughts. Thinking about him wouldn’t change anything. 

She shoved him out of her head for what had to have been the hundredth time that night, blinking away thoughts of a knowing soulmate waiting on her doorstep with flowers, blinking away thoughts of an endless future of _comfort_ , of pilsners, of just okay sex, blinking away thoughts of her complicated friend that brought complicated, confusing feelings with him. 

She was staring at her alarm clock when it struck midnight. 

She sucked in a sharp, deep breath, and it somehow felt like all the air in the room had escaped, left her gasping helplessly as it watched from outside her window with devious eyes. 

This is what she wanted. She wanted to face this alone. Kylie offered to come stay with her, to look at her wrist for her when she inevitably got cold feet, but she needed to be alone for this. She tried to prepare herself, to give herself a silent pep talk. Her head was full of half hearted pleas for it to _just be Teddy_ , immediately followed by the confusing, if not kind of disheartening _just try to be excited if it’s Teddy_. 

Trying to psych herself up to being excited about Teddy being her soulmate was a hell of a lot easier to swallow than trying to talk herself into not being disappointed when she looked down and didn’t find a certain someone else’s name written on her wrist. That was confusing. That was unprofessional, that was dishonest, that was wrong, and it was entirely unwelcome. Teddy was the easy answer. Teddy is the answer that made sense. But did that mean he was the best answer? The _right_ answer?

Finally, more to prove to herself that she wasn’t avoiding looking for fear of disappointment (a disappointment which she _swore_ wouldn’t actually exist), she took a final deep breath, and looked down at her wrist. 

_Nothing._

She twisted her wrist around, searching wildly for a name that simply wasn’t there. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them back up to find the same blank wrist she’d been looking at seconds before. 

But if she didn’t have a name on her wrist, that meant that Teddy wasn’t her soulmate. 

She caught herself breathing a sigh of relief before the breath got caught in her throat, the undeniable feeling of disappointment weighing her down because if there was no name on her wrist, that meant that her soulmate hadn’t turned thirty yet. So no, Teddy wasn’t her soulmate, but that also meant that her soulmate wasn’t… 

Maybe her alarm clock was just set incorrectly. It was a ridiculous thought, she knew. Her clock was definitely set correctly, checked for accuracy on every other clock in her home _and_ her cell phone last day light’s savings time. As ludicrous as it was, she still tapped her phone screen, squinting as the light flooded her eyes. 

Midnight. And there was no name on her wrist. 

Midnight, and she didn’t have a soulmate. 

Midnight, and she had one new text. 

**Jake Peralta:** happy birthday ames

Her thumb hesitated over the new message. She should thank him. But then she glanced back down at her blank wrist, and the silence in the room felt so loud. She had to shut her eyes to block out a fraction of the wave of confusing emotion crashing over her. 

She had expected to see one of two names on her wrist. One of those names was illuminated on her phone screen, the picture he’d set of him making a stupid face at her not quite bringing a smile to her face over the news she’d just gotten. Now she had no idea what to do. 

An incoming call startled her into opening her eyes again. A picture of her and Teddy leaned into each other, smiling at some bar filled the screen. She squeezed her eyes shut and ignored the call. She ignored Jake and ignored Kylie’s excited _is it him?_ text with way too many question marks (which him was she talking about, anyway?). She shut off her phone, and she went to sleep. 

She was going to have a hard enough day to face tomorrow, she should at least try to get some sleep. 

—

It hadn’t all just been some sick dream. She woke up to her left wrist looking exactly the same as it had every other day of her life. She glanced at her phone, but ultimately avoided turning it back on until after she was ready for work. Even after she turned it on, she simply skimmed through all of her new notifications—six texts from six of her brothers (Julian would remind Mateo to text her before the day was over), texts from a few other friends, two more missed calls from Teddy, one new voicemail, then way down at the bottom, the ignored text from Jake. 

She swallowed back a new round of emotion as she shoved her way out of her apartment, set on arriving to work early. If she could bury herself in work, then maybe she’d be able to forget all about this. Or, at the very least, maybe she could forget all about Teddy and the undoubtedly uncomfortable dinner they’d be having that night. 

She would admit that she felt a little better after she’d stopped for coffee. The warm cup took the chill out of the brisk September morning. She’d chosen to walk to work—another distraction technique that was actually working fairly well, right up until her mother called her. 

“Hey, Mom—”

“Happy birthday, Amy!” Her mother practically shouted. Amy winced, pulling the phone away from her face as her father echoed the sentiment. 

“My god, it’s seven in the morning,” she murmured through laughter. “Thank you.”

“So,” her mother continued, just as upbeat and chipper, “who’s your soulmate?” 

Amy choked on her sip of coffee. “Uh, Mom, I’m actually on my way to work, I have to—”

“So it isn’t Teddy?” 

“So sorry, the phone’s breaking up, I can’t… You know how spotty my service is on Atlantic.” 

She could practically hear her mother rolling her eyes. “If you don’t call me and tell me everything tonight, I’m sending your brothers this weekend. I don’t know which ones, but we both know any of them will annoy you into telling.” 

“Love you, Mom! Tell Dad I love him, too.”

Her mother mimicked her. _“Phone’s breaking up, I can’t…”_ She scoffed. “We love you. Have a good day, Amelia.” 

The phone clicked off, and Amy forged on, trying to ignore what would only be the first of many similar questions throughout her day. 

There was a sense of normalcy as she stepped onto the elevator. Nobody else on the squad should be in yet, so she’d have time to completely immerse herself in her latest case before anybody else even showed up to bother her. It was the perfect plan, because everyone knew how serious Amy got when she was working on a case. The only person she might not be able to avoid is Jake, since they were working the case together, but it’s not like he really cared about any of this stupid soulmate stuff, anyway. 

Her plan, much like her expectations for the words that never appeared on her wrist, proved to be a waste of thought. The elevator doors slipped open to reveal a guilty-looking Jake standing over her desk, sprinkling what appeared to be birthday-themed confetti across it. 

He smiled sheepishly. “Happy birthday?” 

She grimaced at him, walking closer. He continued sprinkling the confetti—little birthday cakes and _happy birthday_ s of assorted colors—across her desk, as if she wasn’t going to scoop it all into the trash before the morning briefing. His sleeves were rolled up, so she was awarded the perfectly clear image of his own left wrist. Just like yesterday, it still matched hers—bare. 

Jake always joked about how he simply didn’t have a soulmate. _The soulmate system is stupid,_ he’d confessed to her once, just the two of them on a stakeout. _Everybody’s just so ready to accept that it’s real, but just because somebody’s name shows up on you, you’re just supposed to be in love?_ She had watched him closely as he avoided her gaze, shaking his head. _That’s not really love. It’s just following the rules._

He’d later joked about how the soulmate system must be a dream come true for her. She loved following the rules. Jake’s parents had been soulmates, but that hadn’t stopped his father from walking out on them. She hypothesized that his healthy skepticism over the whole system stemmed from that loss, but she never shared as much with him. 

“I’m going to be shaking confetti out of my keyboard for months.” His eyes crinkled at the edges with a warm smile as she elbowed him, fondness for her friend showing through the gesture. “Thank you.” 

“And,” he shifted around to his desk, shuffling with something that was hidden from her sight by his computer screen. He presented a plate to her. She watched as he walked back over to her desk, opened her top, left drawer, and fingered through the various objects until he got to what he was looking for—her secret pack of shame cigarettes, which she hadn’t known he knew about. He flipped the package open, then struggled to pull something out of it. “A little help?” 

She eyed him curiously, trying her hardest to pretend that the pink flushing across her face wasn’t caused by embarrassment at being caught with the cigarettes, and pulled one cigarette out of the pack. He rolled his eyes. 

“God—I don’t want a cigarette, Amy. Do you even know me at all?” He laughed at what must have been a look of utter confusion on her face. “The lighter.” 

She shook her head at herself. _Obviously_ he’d wanted the lighter. She was so flustered about him holding her pack of cigarettes that not even Teddy knew she had, distracted by his bare wrist and his familiar smile and eight-month-old confessions that didn’t mean anything anymore, that she’d barely paid any attention to the single candle sticking out of the donut on the plate. She replaced the cigarette, pulling out the lighter and trading it with him for the box of cigarettes, which she carefully hid in the back of her drawer again. 

“I know it’s not, like, a cake or anything. And I didn’t think thirty whole candles would fit on the donut, but I figured one probably got the point across.” He flicked the lighter on, then held it up to the candle until it was lit. “Make a wish.” He held the plate out to her, but only waited about half a second before continuing. “Quickly! You know Holt’s gonna lose his mind if I set off the fire alarm again.” 

Amy blew out the candle without pause. “Yeah, Boone coming here is the fastest way to ruin my birthday.” 

Jake laughed. “So? What’d you wish for?” 

She shrugged. “I didn’t.” 

He scoffed. “I spent a dollar fifty on a pack of candles for you to not even make a wish?”

She rolled her eyes, but the teasing smirk died on her lips when she realized her mistake a second too late. She was still holding her coffee in her right hand, so she reached for the donut with her left. His eyes were trained on her bare wrist. She faltered, her eyes falling down to her wrist, too. For some reason, the thing that she’d never really cared about, the thing that was completely out of her control, had her stammering more than the secret cigarettes had. 

“You didn’t…” His eyebrows drew together, his eyes flashing from her wrist, which she was now covering with her right hand, then back up to her face. He shook his head slightly, seeming to be just as lost for words as she was. “He’s not?”

“I, uhm… I don’t…” 

He shook his head, like he couldn’t quite come to terms with the information he’d just taken in. “Ames…” 

The elevator dinged, and Amy’s attention snapped from his face to the doors. Jake set the donut plate on her desk, quickly replacing her lighter inside of her drawer and pushing it shut before whoever was entering had the opportunity to see it. He shook his head again, his eyebrows knit together in a way that she simply couldn’t understand, and walked back around to his desk. His attention shifted to his computer, but his expression remained unchanged. 

It took her right back to the parking garage. It took her right back to eight months ago, right back to watching him cautiously clutch a box full of his things, carrying with it a new reality that neither of them were prepared for. She’d never seen Jake Peralta look quite so small. Her cocky, obnoxious, goofy partner… Her most-trusted friend’s dark eyes were full of sincerity as he looked at her, all pretenses gone. 

_I kinda wish something could happen between us. Romantic stylez._ He smiled, that same gentle smile he always offered her, but there was a strange mixture, a sort of hopeful sadness in the gesture. _And I know you can’t, ‘cause you’re with Teddy, and I’m going undercover, and that’s just how it is, but…_ He turned his head. This was the moment where he’d laugh, say he’d just been joking. But he never did. _Anyway, we’re not supposed to have any contact, so I should go._

And she wanted to stop him, but she didn’t know how. She couldn’t find her voice, any useful words evaded her, and when he got in the car, murmuring out some half-hearted joke about America needing him, she was left with her lips parted, her heart beating out of her chest, and the ground crumbling beneath her because _it was real_. All of the glimpses and the teasing and their fingers brushing together as they exchanged files and the nights at Shaw’s where their shoulders bumped together, all the little moments that possessed her to have his back despite Holt’s commands, they were _real_. He felt them, too. 

But she was dating Teddy, and he was going undercover, and they didn’t even know when he’d come back. For all she knew, she could already be thirty by the time he returned. There had been no reason to break up with Teddy. If Teddy _was_ her soulmate, it would have just complicated things even further when their names appeared on each other’s wrists. What if she ruined her future with Teddy over Jake admitting feelings in a heated moment, a moment when he was just afraid and clinging to a stable friendship in his life? 

But then, if Teddy was really her soulmate, would she have been having confusing feelings like this about Jake even while she’d been dating Teddy for a month? 

Ultimately, she shoved the feelings down deep where she thought they’d never bother her again, but the second Jake returned, the feelings came bubbling back up like they’d never been gone. It caused tension with her and Teddy on more than one occasion, but things were fine. She was fine. Most days she could pretend that the unidentified feelings were never there at all. And besides, Jake was dating Sophia now. 

But this moment brought it all back. 

Her phone buzzed on her desk, and both she and Jake looked down at the screen. She ignored Teddy’s call, and Jake’s eyebrows seemed to weave closer together. When Charles caught sight of her and ran to come harass her about her soulmate, Jake left the room altogether. 

It turned out that Jake would be easier to avoid than she thought. It helped that he was now entirely avoiding her, so she didn’t have to fend off paper football attacks or random confetti showers. She noticed every time his eyes flickered over to her. More than once he was studying her wrist, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.

Since when did he care about any of this, anyway? He hadn’t bothered Rosa when she started wearing a leather wristband so that nobody would ever be able to see her wrist because _A. it’s nobody’s business who my soulmate will be and B. none of you need to know when my birthday is or how old I am, anyway._ He hadn’t seemed to care at all when Gina turned thirty and pretended that she had no concern whatsoever over who her soulmate was—she hadn’t met them yet, but she was sure they were influential. So why her? Why now? 

She dodged questions about her soulmate all day, and she watched with more confusion each time she caught Jake clenching his jaw at somebody else’s comment about her bare wrist. 

After a few hours of Jake’s uncharacteristic silence, she was fed up. She watched him walk into the evidence lock up, and she followed behind him, unsure about what she even wanted to say. 

“What’s your problem?” 

She came off much more aggressive than she’d planned to, but honestly, she kind of thought she had a right to be upset. This was _her_ crisis, not his. He turned to face her, the same furrowed brows twisting his expression into one she couldn’t quite read. His eyes were so full of emotion that she almost backed down. 

“I just—” He cut off, shaking his head. “I thought…” 

“You’re dating Sophia,” she announced, as if he was unaware, because she knew exactly what this was about. She had the same unresolved feelings eating away at her, and she’d reacted in almost the exact same way when she didn’t find his name on her wrist the night before. 

“Because you’re dating Teddy,” he shot back without missing a beat. “You’re still dating Teddy.” Her breath caught in her throat. He laughed humorlessly, then shook his head again. “Sophia’s thirty-one. We’re not… We can’t be.”

Soulmates. They can’t be soulmates, because she’s over thirty, and they don’t have each other’s names. She raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t known. They’re placeholders, waiting for the demise that they know is coming for their relationship. 

“I just thought maybe…” He took a deep breath, carefully avoiding her eyes. “I hoped.” 

She swallowed, her voice weak as she tried to find the courage to say the words for the first time. “Me too.” 

His eyes flashed up to hers, a depth to his dark eyes that she didn’t recognize, then she watched as they flickered down to her lips. For a second, she thought he might kiss her. She wondered if she’d stop him.

“You don’t even believe in soulmates.” She broke their short silence with a shaky voice, hoping for something that she didn’t quite understand. 

He reached between them and grabbed her wrist gently. He looked down, tapping his thumb on the bare skin he found there. That small Jake from all those months ago was back in front of her. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and yet somehow so starkly loud in the silence of the room. “I wanted to.” 

He let go of her wrist, his hand moving up to her jaw. He tipped her face toward his, and any doubts that she had about what she’d do if he kissed her dissipated entirely. She knew for a fact that she wouldn’t stop him, because name on her wrist or not, doomed relationship with Teddy or not, she wanted Jake to kiss her. 

But he didn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, then leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. She gripped at the side of his shirt, unsure about how they found themselves in this strange, outwardly awkward, desperate embrace, yet unwilling to be the one to break it. They held each other close for another moment, then Jake straightened. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

“Jake, don’t—”

“It’s okay, Ames. You don’t have to. It’s probably better.” He flashed a grin at her, but she could see that it wasn’t as enthusiastic as usual. “You love following the rules. We never would have worked.” 

She scoffed. “Yeah. Can you imagine? I’d drive you crazy with all my binders.” 

He laughed softly. “Yeah, and I’d drive you crazy with being too cool.” He laughed a little more fully when she punched him in the arm. He leaned against a shelf. “So what are you gonna tell Teddy?” 

She sighed. “I’m not going to be able to make it through dinner tonight without telling him that I don’t have his name.” 

“If you don’t have his name, he doesn’t have your name, either. He probably already knows.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But you already know that. That’s why you’re ignoring his calls.” 

“I’m not—” As if on cue, her phone began buzzing. Jake smirked at her, and she grimaced at him as she silenced yet another call from Teddy.

“You should talk to him, Ames.” He smiled sadly. “Waiting it out isn’t going to make it any easier.” 

She took a deep breath. “I know.” She laughed softly. “Does it make me a bad person that I was kind of relieved when it wasn’t him?” 

Jake laughed with her. “I’m glad it wasn’t him, too. I mean, I want you to be happy, but c’mon. _Teddy?”_

She smacked him in the arm again, and he caught her wrist and wrapped an arm around her to pull her into his side. She wound her arms around his waist and relaxed into him for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his chest. 

“Me too,” he whispered into her hair. 

The rest of the day, Jake didn’t clench his jaw every time her soulmate came up. He did glance at her each time she ignored a new phone call, but all of the awkwardness that had been emanating between them all morning was gone. He shot her a knowing glance when she came out of the locker room dressed slightly less business, slightly more casual than she had been for work, and offered her an encouraging smile. It would be okay, and she could call him if she needed to, and soulmates or not, she was positive that Jake would always be a part of her life. 

Maybe soulmates didn’t just have to mean the person you fell in love with and got married to. Maybe he could be her soulmate in a different sort of way, and maybe once she met her real soulmate, that would feel like enough. 

She didn’t really have the time to contemplate it more, because she had an uncomfortable conversation with Teddy awaiting her. His face lit up when he saw her walk into the restaurant they were meeting at, and any part of her that wasn’t already sick with guilt definitely was at the sight of him. He stood up to greet her, pulling her into a half hug and kissing her on the cheek. He sat back down as she pulled her chair out and sat across from him. 

“I’ve been calling you.” He sounded way too happy for someone who had just learned that his relationship was doomed. Maybe he hadn’t looked at his wrist? Perhaps he was waiting for her, so they could do it together. “Have you had a busy day?” 

She offered him a weak smile. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

“I want to hear all about it.” He reached across the table to take her hand, and that’s when she saw it. 

_Amy Santiago_.

Clear as day, her name was written on the inside of his wrist. She jerked her hand out of his grip like he’d burned her, and he pulled back, startled. 

“Amy? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I…” 

He was still scrambling, reaching for her but not touching her, his eyes wide. That’s when his eyes zeroed in on her wrist. He reached back over and pulled her wrist a little closer, turning it to inspect it better. Slowly, his eyes flashed up to her face. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I don’t…” She trailed off, pulling her wrist back to her side of the table and tapping her thumb on it the same way that Jake had. “I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“Maybe it’s, like, delayed? Can that happen?” He was looking at his own wrist, at her name clearly displayed there. 

“That isn’t how this works, Teddy.” She shook her head, her eyes studying her wrist closely for any sort of indicator, any hint of color that might depict his name, but there was nothing. 

“Maybe… Maybe there’s something wrong with you—” He hesitated when she made a face at him. “Not wrong, I’m sorry, bad word choice, I’m just—I’m flustered. And confused. Like, what’s happening, Amy?” 

“I… I don’t know, maybe—what if, maybe—I don’t know. Maybe I’m your soulmate… but you’re not mine?” 

Teddy laughed incredulously. “That doesn’t make any sense, Amy. That’s not how the system works. Your name is on my wrist. We’re soulmates.” 

“You’ve heard the stories, though, Teddy…” She shook her head, refusing to take her eyes off of her wrist to look at him. “What if they’re real?” 

Teddy’s eyebrows drew together for a moment, and he was studying her face the same way that he’d studied her wrist a few moments earlier. “Is this about Peralta?” 

“What?” Amy shook her head, trying to shake the image of Jake’s face as he told her he wanted to believe in soulmates out of her head. “No—”

“Because he says that he doesn’t have a soulmate, and that’s why a name still hasn’t appeared for him? You know, I know that he had a crush on you, and I think maybe you used to like him back, but Amy, this isn’t how soulmates work. You and Jake aren’t, like, soulmates because you both _don’t_ have a name on your wrist.” 

“I _know_ how it works. I don’t know why I don’t have your name on my wrist. It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Does Jake have your name on his wrist?” 

Her voice was softer this time, a weird combination of disappointment and shame swirling inside of her. “No.” 

“Amy…” Teddy shook his head, his smile breaking out on his face once again. “We’re soulmates.” He offered his wrist to her again. 

She hesitantly inspected it, her fingers reaching out and tracing her own name on his arm. She looked up at him, at his bright, inviting smile. 

Yeah. That’s what made the most sense. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty for feeling relieved that he wasn’t her soulmate, when apparently he actually was. She still didn’t understand, but she’d grown up hearing about stories like this. She always thought they were rumors, some age-old folklore just meant to scare kids. Stories about people who never found their soulmate, for whom a name never appeared. Stories about having a soulmate who was already soulmates with somebody else. But they weren’t real. She had never known anybody that something like that has happened to. She always thought those sorts of things weren’t real. 

And yet here she was. She and Teddy were soulmates, but she didn’t have his name on her arm. 

“We’re soulmates, baby.” His smile somehow widened, and she forced herself to choke back the nausea building inside of her and smile back. 

She could do this. She could love him. She could feel excited about coming home to him every day. She could learn to like pilsners. She could get comfortable with the idea of never leaving her comfort zone again, of raising children that looked like Teddy, of trading stories that didn’t entirely interest her over dinners that weren’t quite as much fun as she’d hoped dinners with her soulmate would be. 

She smiled at him. “Yeah.” 

She smiled through congratulations that made her skin crawl, she smiled through their server bringing them a bottle of champagne, she smiled through a picture where Teddy proudly showed off her name, a picture which she’d send to her mother with no caption, a picture featuring a smile that clearly didn’t reach her eyes. 

She smiled until Teddy suggested that they head to Shaw’s to share the good news with the rest of the squad. She wanted to celebrate her birthday with her friends anyway, right? She didn’t smile on the car ride to the bar. Her stomach twisted in knots, guilt mingling with disappointment. She tilted her phone screen so that he couldn’t catch a glimpse at it as she tried to find the right words to search her exact situation. But what did you even call this? She couldn’t come up with anything useful, so she pocketed her phone and just tried to breathe. All of her nerves were on fire at the idea of facing Jake with Teddy by her side, her name displayed prominently on his wrist. _I’m glad it wasn’t him, too._

Jake regarded her with careful eyes when they walked in. His eyes stayed trained on her as Teddy announced her news to the group without so much as a shared glance for approval (much less the opportunity to share the news with her friends _herself)_ , cheers of excitement and congratulations erupting around them. Jake didn’t cheer. He just watched, the familiar expression he wore when he was trying to crack a tough case slowly overcoming him. He reached out and shook Teddy’s hand, congratulating him quietly, but his eyes never left her for more than a few seconds. 

Confusion spread amongst them when they saw that her wrist was still bare, which Teddy graciously explained by repeating that _maybe something’s wrong with Amy, we’re not sure._ Jake’s jaw flexed, but he was careful not to look at her as he took a long pull of his beer. Teddy then took it upon himself to pull up that picture of he and Amy on his phone, showing it to everyone at the table, who responded with various levels of feigned excitement. 

“So, I guess now we just have to pick a date for the wedding.” Teddy wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she smiled politely, her smile only faltering for a second when he kissed her cheek. 

Jake coughed to try and cover his laughter. Teddy narrowed his eyes in Jake’s direction. Jake shook his head, flashing his phone screen in their general direction. “Sorry, someone just sent me a funny video. It’s—not important. Anybody else need another drink?” He waited a moment, and when nobody immediately replied, he nodded. “No? Great, I’ll just go get one for myself.” 

He excused himself from the table, and everyone he left there—even Gina—glanced down at the table awkwardly. Everyone except Teddy, who was looking at Amy, and Amy, who was looking at Jake. 

“I just…” Amy trailed off. She shrugged Teddy’s arm off of her shoulder. “I’m just gonna go talk to him real quick.” 

Her eyebrows drew together as she scurried away from the table. She knew exactly how that looked, she knew she and Teddy were definitely going to argue about it later, and she did it anyway. But she and Jake were friends. She could go and check in on him. She sidled up next to him. 

“Hey.” 

He shot her a sideways glance, then turned to face the bar more fully. “Hey.” 

She had been under the impression that talking to him would be easy. “So…”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

She turned to look at him. “What?” 

He turned to face her, then swallowed. “He said maybe there’s something wrong with you.” Jake shrugged. “There isn’t.”

She rubbed her thumb over her wrist. “I don’t know why his name didn’t appear on me.” 

Jake shrugged again, looking back toward the bar. “Maybe you’re his soulmate, but he isn’t yours.” 

“That’s what I said!”

“Are you sure he didn’t just, like, tattoo your name on his arm?” He snickered quietly when she rolled her eyes at him. They both knew Teddy wouldn’t do that, but it was much easier to explain than whatever the confusing truth was. They were both quiet for a moment. “So you’re gonna marry him?” 

Amy released a long, slow breath. “I mean, I guess so. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?” 

“I don’t know.” His eyes sparkled, reflections of the twinkly lights over the bar dancing across his almond colored eyes as he stared at her with an intensity that made her stomach twist. He didn’t bring up their conversation from earlier. She knew he wouldn’t, but she was grateful anyway. He smiled sincerely, if not a little sadly. “I’m happy for you…” He trailed off for a moment, his eyes dropping back to the floor. “But you didn’t look happy in that picture.” 

When she didn’t respond, Jake nudged her in the side with his elbow. She wasn’t even definitely sure that Teddy was actually her soulmate. She _wasn’t_ happy. She resisted the urge to hug him. It was just a friendly gesture, but she could feel Teddy watching them, and she knew that just following Jake to the bar after his weird laughter was going to cause enough unrest in her newfound engagement. She just bumped her shoulder against Jake’s, and he smiled his usual, fond smile down at her. He got the message. 

—

“But why isn’t his name on my wrist?” Amy asked for what had to have been the twentieth time. “If we’re soulmates, why isn’t his name on my wrist?” 

“I don’t know, Amy.” Benji nudged her knee with his. “I wish I had all the answers for you.” 

She shook her head. “How am I supposed to feel? Shouldn’t I be excited?” 

Eli laughed. “I don’t know, I kind of felt like the whole world was crumbling around me when I found out that Cass was my soulmate.” He laughed a little more fully. “We hated each other when we met.” 

“Do you think whatever fucked up thing Amy has runs in the family?” Julian piped in. Benji tossed a potato chip across the coffee table at him. “Hey! I’m just asking! Do you think I have to worry about this one day, too?” 

“Right, but that feeling went away, right?” Amy chose to ignore Julian, instead pushing Elijah for more answers. “Like, you wanted to marry her, right? You didn’t just do it because you thought you were supposed to?” 

Benji turned toward her more fully. “Is that why you’re marrying Teddy?” 

“Amy… That’s dark.” Julian murmured. 

“What’s dark?” Mateo popped around the corner, returning from the bathroom. He flopped across the couch, landing haphazardly across Amy and Benji’s laps. 

“Amy’s not in love with Teddy,” Julian replied automatically. 

Mateo raised his eyebrows, but Eli slapped Julian on the chest. “She’s _not sure_ about him. Which is fine, considering she’s kind of in a unique situation with all of this.” 

“Shit, that _is_ dark.” Mateo sighed. “Hey, do y’all think whatever fucked up thing Amy has runs in the family?” 

Benji shoved him off the couch. “Hey!” He yelped from the floor. “I was just asking!”

Eli scoffed. “Twins. I swear you’re dumb and fucking dumber.” 

Amy stared at the floor, her bad habit of chewing on her bottom lip running rampant. 

“I knew immediately with Emma,” Benji finally began. “Ya’know, we hadn’t met prior to my birthday. So when we finally did meet, we already knew.” He shrugged. “And I never once doubted it.” 

_“I_ doubted it a lot.” Eli shrugged. “Some days I’m still pretty certain that Cass is a demon sent here specifically to spite me.” He laughed softly. “But I love her more than anything, and for every moment that she’s driven me crazy, there are twice as many moments that she’s made me better.” 

“If Julia isn’t my soulmate, this whole system is fucked.” Mateo butted in. “And I’m not marrying someone else just because their name shows up on my arm. Julia’s my soulmate, and I know better than some ancient ass system.” 

“Yeah, I thought I knew everything when I was twenty-seven, too.” Benji rolled his eyes when Mateo stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Soulmates are dumb as hell.” Everyone turned to look at Julian with various faces of confusion and shock. “Who gives a fuck what the old people will all think? If you don’t wanna marry Teddy, don’t. Simple as that.” 

“It’s not exactly as simple as that.” She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing at her temples. 

“Actually…” Benji shrugged his shoulders. “Jule’s right. It could be that simple. I mean, his name isn’t on your wrist, Amy.”

“Maybe he really isn’t your soulmate,” Eli offered. 

Mateo grinned over at her. “Do you have someone else? Who’s your Julia?” 

Amy shook her head, her attention shifting back to the movie that they’d all been ignoring. 

“Ya’know, I always thought it was weird that you’re dating a Julia when your twin is a Julian,” Eli finally said. 

_“Thank you!”_ Julian exclaimed. “I’ve been saying it for years.” 

She didn’t have a Julia, but she did have a Jake, and she wondered what he was doing. He was probably with Sophia, probably not thinking about trivial things like the future, or soulmates, or _her._

Her brothers could be dumb, but they were some of her favorite people. Usually their teasing just left her full of warmth and love for family, but today, it left her with something entirely different. 

_Don’t marry Teddy._

_The whole system’s fucked._

_His name isn’t on your wrist._

_Who’s your Julia?_

—

Normal wedding planning was a nightmare.

Planning a wedding that you secretly weren’t even sure you actually wanted or were destined to have? That was something entirely different. 

Nothing was going right. When she was alone, staring into the mirror in another fitting room on day five of the wedding dress search, it was easy enough for her to admit that it was because nothing about this wedding felt right. None of the wedding dresses she tried on were what she wanted because she didn’t want to wear a wedding dress to walk down the aisle toward Teddy Wells. None of the dresses looked right for standing across from him because as far as she was concerned, _she_ wasn’t right for standing across from him.

She didn’t want to marry Teddy. 

She liked him, and he was a great man, and she was sure that he’d make a great husband. But she wasn’t marrying him because she wanted to. She was marrying him because her name appeared on his wrist. She tried to convince herself that one day his name would appear on her wrist, too, and that everything would finally make sense, but with each passing day, it became less and less convincing. She had been so sure that time would bring her clarity, that she’d fall in love with him and accept her new reality—but each day that passed just brought her more anxiety.

Her mother and Kylie were so excited to get into the wedding planning, so she tagged along for all of the brunches and sipped mimosas that weren’t strong enough and flipped through binders she felt no pleasure in making and booked a venue that didn’t feel right on a date that would be far too cold because that’s when Teddy’s distant family would be able to fly in. 

Rosa sat through all of the brunches with her and watched her expression fall every time her mother looked away and tried on frilly dresses that she’d rather die than wear, and it must have all been worse than she thought, because one day on the way back to the precinct on their lunch break, Rosa finally confronted her. 

“You don’t have to go through with this, you know.” 

She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything at all, and Rosa didn’t push it any further. 

She accepted that this was her life. She told Teddy that she loved him back, but she wasn’t sure that she ever truly felt it. She used to feel it, she thought. Part of her thought she was just being abrasive, that the pang of longing she sometimes felt when she looked across her desk at Jake was making her think she didn’t truly love Teddy, but she was sure that she did. They were soulmates, after all. 

Perhaps this was normal. Pre-wedding jitters, stress from all the planning, perhaps a bit of powerlessness overcoming her at the lack of choice she had in it all. 

She just couldn’t shake this _feeling._ It was wrong—everything felt wrong. And no matter how many times she silently tried to convince herself that the pull she felt toward Jake was just platonic, that it was normal, that it meant nothing, the pull wouldn’t go away. It was becoming more and more distracting as the wedding loomed closer, the stress and anxiety seeming to have a positive correlation to that pull toward Jake. 

Jake was just her _friend_ soulmate. She’d resorted to thinking of him that way in her head. It made sense. They were always so in sync, always so ready to be there for one another, even when that sometimes meant sitting quietly together at the bar and pretending that things felt normal. 

Things didn’t feel normal. Things between them weren’t as easy as they were when she was twenty-eight and he’d just turned thirty. They were friends, and they teased each other, nobody had admitted to having feelings, and Teddy was just a distant memory, a man she’d been on a handful of dates with once upon a time. Now Jake was dating Sophia, and she was marrying Teddy, and neither of them had a name on their wrist, and for some reason, that seemingly inconsequential thought never slipped her mind. 

It somehow seemed less inconsequential when a commotion broke out at work one day. 

“Jake, c’mon. Let me take you out to lunch! I know this place that has the best aged gruyere. It can mend even the most broken of hearts.”

“I’m _fine_ , Boyle. Honestly. I don’t want your old cheese.” 

Amy kept her head down. If Jake wanted her to know what was going on, he’d tell her about it. 

“What’s going on? Did Jake just find out that the 2016 film Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 flopped at the box office?” Gina smirked as she perched on the corner of his desk. 

Jake scoffed. “It made almost double its budget.” 

_“No,”_ Charles interrupted. He looked at Jake, his eyebrows scrunched in pity. “Sophia found her soulmate.” 

When Amy glanced up at him, he was already looking at her, his expression hard and unreadable—and she could almost _always_ read him. 

“Huh,” Gina hummed. “I never liked her anyway.” She pushed off of Jake’s desk, turning to look at Amy. “I got your save the date. How many plus ones can I bring?” 

Amy rolled her eyes. “One, Gina. It’s called a plus _one_ for a reason.” 

“Lame.” 

She looked back at Jake, but he was looking down at his computer. He didn’t look at her again for the rest of the day. 

Or the day after that. 

Or the day after that. 

The day after _that_ , she’d finally had enough. 

“Come out with me later.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes at her. “Weird way to ask someone on a date.” 

Amy spluttered for a moment, and Jake laughed at her. “What’s the special occasion?” 

She shrugged. “You look like you could use a drink and a friend.” 

He made a noncommittal noise, tapping away at his keyboard like she only had half his attention. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t really need a pity drink. Besides, I’m pretty sure your _soulmate_ doesn’t like me.” 

Amy flicked the paper football that she’d been holding hostage since the last time he’d thrown it at her. It bounced off his forehead, and she laughed when he grimaced at her. “I don’t remember _asking_ if you wanted to come out with me later. I was telling you that’s what we’re doing.” She pulled her sleeve up aggressively, flashing her bare wrist at Jake. “And last time I checked, I’m an adult woman and there isn’t even a name on my wrist.” 

Perhaps she was displacing some of the attitude she had for Teddy on Jake, but it seemed to have gotten her point across. He nodded, his eyebrows only slightly elevated, then lifted his coffee mug from its place and pushed it over to her desk. She gratefully accepted, already feeling the tension from another argument with her _soulmate_ dissipate when the first sip of Jake’s too-sweet coffee touched her tongue. 

“Shaw’s?” 

“Mm, no.” She took another sip of coffee, closing her eyes and breathing deep enough that she almost felt like herself again. “Somewhere else. I don’t know, I’ll get us an Uber somewhere.” 

“Dope.” 

They were both on cases with other people, so they didn’t talk much throughout the rest of the day. 

For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed between them. Jake roped Amy into playing i-Spy out the window on the way to the bar. He teased her when his last item was her shirt, and she just kept incorrectly guessing blue things she saw outside. He mimicked her frustrated pout, laughing when she scoffed at him. He bought the first round of drinks, an apology that turned into a dare, that turned into a bet, that turned into a game, and somehow they found themselves six drinks deep in some bar they’d never been to. 

Normally she’d be craving the familiarity of Shaw’s, but all she could find it in herself to care about was Jake. They hadn’t spent time like this together, just the two of them, since before her birthday. In spite of everything that had happened between them—maybe _because_ of everything that had happened between them—he was her best friend. She missed him. 

She’d been doing so well. She forgot about Teddy, forgot about wedding plans that made her heart sink, forgot about soulmates and fights about moving in together and confessions in the darkness of an old parking garage. For a moment, it was just her and Jake. It was just the present, no complicated past and uncertain future. It was just them, just their laughter mingling together as he used his bottle as a microphone and sang along to the radio, exaggerating all the words until she was doubling over next to him. 

She wasn’t sure when it hit her. It was like one second, it was just her and Jake and some Taylor Swift song, and the next she was spiralling. It felt like it had been five full minutes of nothing but silence between them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Jake was thinking about the same sorts of things. 

“Do you really think we wouldn’t have worked out?” 

She hadn’t meant to ask the question. Her voice was quiet, contemplative. Any hint of a smile slipped away from Jake’s lips until he was looking at the bar, twirling his empty glass between his hands with a serious expression, the end of his lips curving down softly as he thought. 

“That’s a complicated question,” he finally answered. He kept his eyes on his glass for a long moment, then he turned to meet her gaze. 

She picked up the permanent marker off of the counter, tapping it against the wood. They’d asked the bartender to borrow the marker earlier in the night, a tic-tac-toe game on napkins resulting in drinks three and four, respectively. “What’s complicated about it?” 

“You deserve…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I don’t…” He sighed, adjusting to wipe his palms across his jeans. “I wish this stupid soulmate system worked. Because you deserve to know. You don’t deserve complications, Amy.” 

She held his gaze for a moment. “That didn’t answer the question.” 

They were quiet for a long moment, both buried in thought, staring at the countertop in front of them. When she uncapped the marker, Jake turned to look at her. She started writing before she had the wherewithal to stop herself. 

She’d never really cared about soulmates, but she’d been surrounded by soulmarks her entire life. She knew the font, the pretty, curly letters looping into one another. She traced out the letters slowly, trying not to let Jake’s attention make her hand shakier than the alcohol already left it. She stared at her wrist when she finished, hesitant to look up at Jake. 

When she finally chanced a glance up at him, he was staring at her wrist, his eyebrows pulled together. 

_Jake Peralta._

He didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he pushed his sleeve back and extended his arm toward her. She watched him for a moment, but when he didn’t look up at her, she leaned closer to begin writing her name on his wrist. She held his hand steady with her left hand, her thumb rubbing gently against his palm. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she kept her attention on her lettering. 

When she finished, he captured the fingers on her left hand with his own. He stroked his fingertips across her knuckles, his jaw clenching as he stared down at their wrists, at the fake soulmarks written across them. 

He swallowed, his words chosen carefully. “I think we could’ve.” 

His voice barely touched the words. She’d heard that whisper before, on late night stakeouts, his voice rasping with emotion as he told a story that he never really talked about. He thought they could’ve worked. Under different circumstances, in a different world. A world that she wanted more than she’d ever admit.

“What should I do?” 

His jaw clenched again. The crease between his eyebrows was so deep that she idly wondered if it would ever return to normal. “I’m not gonna tell you not to marry him, Amy.” 

She fought off the emotion welling up within her, trying her hardest to sound stable when she spoke. “Why not?” 

He turned his head toward her a fraction, still not meeting her gaze. “Would it matter if I did?” 

She wanted to answer his question, she really did. She wanted to tell him yes. Of _course_ it would matter. Of course that would mean something to her. She wanted to beg him to tell her not to do it, to intervene, to _object_. But even if it mattered, she wasn’t sure that it would change anything. She bit her tongue, swallowing another round of feelings with the lump in her throat. 

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head, her eyes watching the way that their fingers intertwined. She wanted to look at him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. “For bringing this up.”

His fingers tightened on hers. “Ames.” 

His voice was so soft and low that it was almost unrecognizable. He’d called her that more times than she could possibly recall, but she’d never heard his voice cling to the name quite like this. He was pleading, a layer of self-restraint mixed with something she didn’t quite recognize. 

When she turned to look at him, he was closer than she’d anticipated. He clenched his jaw, his breath tickling her cheek as he opened his mouth to speak, then ultimately changed his mind. His eyes flickered over her face, settling on her lips for a moment. Her tongue darted out across her bottom lip, and his eyes shot straight back to hers. 

Her eyes moved down to their hands when he slowly began untangling his fingers from hers. She was curious, but she stayed silent as he slipped his hand off of hers, his fingers gently tracing along the ink on her inner wrist. Then his eyes were on hers and his hand was on her jaw and he was just looking at her, just _watching_ , his fingers tracing softly against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and the next thing she knew, his lips were brushing against hers. 

His lips were soft and warm, exactly the way she always thought they would be. Her hands remained where they were—one on the counter and one in her lap—but her head tipped to accommodate him. It was quick, just a few seconds before he was pulling back just enough that he could look at her with wide, dazed eyes. 

But there it was again—that _pull._ It was as if she had no say in the matter whatsoever. He stared at her with those big, soft eyes, and she made no conscious decision to move forward, she was just drawn to him. She pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket, a bit more urgency in this kiss. He tasted like cheap whiskey, and it felt like something dangerous, but when he wrapped his arms around her, she finally felt safe from the rest of the world. She felt _right_ , despite every one of her brain cells screaming that this was wrong only seconds before their lips touched. She was terrible—this was terrible—but she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands hesitated on her sides, bringing her closer, then ultimately keeping her in place as he pulled away from her. He kept his hands on her waist even when her arms fell back to her sides, like he needed to keep her just close enough. He just looked at her, eyebrows raised, lips parted as he searched for words. 

Finally, her brain caught up with her. She reached up and touched her lips, her eyebrows raising, then immediately furrowing. What had she just _done?_ She looked down at her wrist, at Jake’s name there, then back at Jake’s face, his warm eyes that were quickly filling with just as much panic as she’s sure was present in her own expression. 

“Oh my god…” 

“I—” Jake took a step back when she spoke, like he’d just been slapped with the reality of their situation. He let go of her, holding his hands up in front of him for a moment. He shook his head. 

“Jake—”

“I’m so sorry—” He shook his head again, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’m—I don’t…” His eyebrows drew together. She reached out to touch him, but he practically flinched away. “I have to go.” 

“Jake—”

“I’m sorry.” 

She wanted to stop him, but her mind was moving so quickly and all she could think about was Teddy. Whether she thought they were soulmates or not, whether she truly loved him or not, she _was_ really engaged to him. She was engaged to Teddy, and she just kissed Jake. Jake was leaving and he looked horrified, and Amy was left at the bar by herself, shame burning in her cheeks, tears stinging in her eyes, and lips that tingled where Jake had kissed her. 

Fuck. 

She just cheated on her fiance. Her fiance who had been nothing but kind, nothing but sweet and understanding despite all of her weirdness in the past few months. He’d been right by her side through it all, even when she was freezing him out for seemingly no reason. He wanted to move in with her and take their relationship to the next reasonable level. They were engaged, they’d been together for a year, the wedding was in two months, it _made sense._ And yet she fought him on it, and she refused to have the conversation, and every time he asked if there was something going on, she just shut down. 

She hailed a cab outside the bar, failing to keep her tears at bay on the way home. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t face him. She didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t love him, that she didn’t think they were really soulmates. She wanted to love him. She wanted this to be easy. She wanted to have not just kissed Jake, wished she hadn’t been wanting to kiss Jake for weeks. Even if she _hadn’t_ just kissed Jake, she’d been so wrapped up in him emotionally for the past few months, just— _god_ , she was terrible. She wished she had done things differently. Just _anything_ differently. 

She should have listened to her parents. She shouldn’t have started dating Teddy when she did. She would have been single when Jake told her he had feelings for her, and maybe they could have explored that instead of both pushing their feelings aside until things got this bad. 

Everything she’d done with Teddy, she’d done because it made sense. They had so much in common, it made _sense_ to date him. It would have _made sense_ for him to be her soulmate, so why break up with him even when she wasn’t feeling invested in the relationship? It _made sense_ to go along with the wedding planning because her name was on his wrist. 

The only thing that didn’t make sense was the way she felt about him. 

She felt terrible—but feeling terrible only made her feel _worse_ , because she didn’t only feel bad about what she’d done to Teddy. She didn’t only feel bad about kissing Jake, or guilty about harboring these feelings for Jake in not-so-subtle ways for at least the past few months. She didn’t only feel sad about her feelings (or lack thereof) for Teddy. She _did_ feel all of those things, but swirling around with all of her feelings about Teddy were more feelings about Jake. 

Longing, desire, shame. Sadness, because she wished he hadn’t left. Nervous about what this would mean for them in the future. Worry. Was he okay? How was _he_ feeling? 

And then it was guilt all over again, because her mind shouldn’t be on Jake. She shouldn’t be thinking about him, shouldn’t be wishing he was still with her, shouldn’t be looking down at his name on her wrist and wishing it was real. She shouldn’t be so preoccupied with thoughts of Jake that she didn’t even notice Teddy’s car on the street in front of her apartment. Her eyes shouldn’t be so blurry with tears that weren’t inspired by Teddy that she didn’t see him standing there when she walked in the door. 

“Amy?” 

She took a deep breath, startled, trying helplessly to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her voice came out garbled. “Teddy?” 

“Are you crying? Babe—”

Her vision was still blurry, but she could tell he was coming closer. She held her hand up, trying to wipe her eyes with the other hand. “Stop! Don’t—”

She sucked in a sharp breath when he grabbed her left wrist. His touch wasn’t gentle like Jake’s had been. 

“Amy…” He trailed off, but his voice betrayed everything he didn’t say. “Is this…?”

She tugged her wrist out of his grip, covering Jake’s name with her opposite hand. “It’s not—”

“Are you drunk?” 

“I’m not—I’m fine, Teddy.” 

“Let me see your wrist.”

“Teddy—”

“How did Jake’s name appear on your wrist? You’re both already thirty.” 

“It didn’t—”

 _“Amy.”_ He practically yelled. “Let me see it.” 

She stared at him for a moment, then reluctantly offered her wrist to him. She sniffled, her breath shaking as she exhaled. He scoffed, his thumb flicking over the place where her tears had smeared the ink. 

“You wrote his name on your wrist?” 

And if she hadn’t felt bad before, she definitely did now. His voice shook with emotion, a sort of exasperated betrayal emanating from him. He looked between Jake’s smudged name and the smudged lipstick on her face, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Amy… Why?” 

She took a deep, shaky breath. “I… Teddy, I’m not—”

“You know what?” He shook his head, releasing her wrist. “You’re drunk. I’m gonna go, and we can talk about this tomorrow.” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” He held his hand up, his other hand already on the doorknob. “Just go to bed.” 

And then he was gone, leaving her alone in her apartment. There were color swatches for the wedding spread out on her dining room table. She tried to shove all of that out of her mind as she went straight to bed, not even bothering to wash Jake’s name away before she buried her face in her pillow. 

—

She woke up with a bad taste in her mouth. 

She had been under the impression that she’d wake up with some clarity, but things felt more confusing than ever now that her head was a little more clear. She reached for her phone, finding herself immediately disappointed when there weren’t any unread messages from Jake. She had a few messages from Kylie, apparently in response to a few alarming drunk texts she didn’t remember sending, and one text from Teddy. 

**Teddy Wells:** Good morning. Please let me know when you’re ready to talk. I was thinking we could get lunch. Love you. 

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in her pillow once again. 

She gave herself another twenty minutes to feel bad for herself, hoping that the sick feeling swirling around inside of her would subside. It didn’t, which she probably deserved, so she dragged herself to the shower. The hot water helped a little, but overall, she felt worse. She stared at Jake’s name on her wrist for a long time, letting the water run over it. She scrubbed at it gently, rinsing the soap away and finding his name slightly faded, but still discernible. She shook her head at herself. It was so stupid, but she didn’t want to wash it away. By the time she’d finished her shower, taken a few painkillers, had a glass of water, and had gotten dressed, she almost felt like a real person again. 

So… she texted Teddy. 

**Amy Santiago:** Hey. Sorry about last night. I was actually thinking maybe we could just talk at my apartment? Let me know. 

His response came within seconds. 

**Teddy Wells:** I’ll be there in ten minutes. 

So the deep breathing began. This was so unlike her. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. She normally drafted speeches and had time to proofread and edit before big conversations like this. All she knew was that she needed to come clean about everything. She needed to tell Teddy how she felt, what she was afraid of, and what she was one hundred percent positive she didn’t want. And it was going to be hard for both of them, and she didn’t want to have to do it. 

But he was letting himself in the door with his key before she knew it, and her bubble of solitude was popped, leaving her scrambling for words with his eyes on her. 

“Hi.” 

His eyebrows pulled together. “Hi, Amy.” 

She took a deep breath. “I think we should—”

“His name is still there.” 

Amy swallowed, looking down at her wrist and covering it up with her opposite hand again. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. However difficult she thought this was going to be, she was beginning to think it would be even worse.

“I’ve been doing some research.” 

“Research?” Teddy raised his eyebrows. “On what?” 

“Soulmates?” Her voice came out shaky and unsure, but she _had been_ doing research. She _was_ sure. At least pretty sure. She’d spent hours in the library, rifling through stacks of books and scouring message boards looking for similar stories. She literally ran into Jake in the same section of the library once, and they’d both spluttered as they tried to pick up their respective books off of the floor. They’d both stammered and avoided each other’s eyes before ultimately retreating with awkward smiles and never talking about it again, even when her mind kept coming back to him, why he was in a _library_ , and had she just imagined a book about soulmates in his hands? 

“You’ve been doing research… about soulmates?” 

Teddy walked further into the apartment, taking a seat at the table like he needed to sit down for the information he was being hit with. He reached up and touched one of the fabric samples on the table, and Amy knew for sure that it wasn’t just an absentminded gesture. He was trying to draw her attention to it, a sort of interrogation technique. She took a deep breath and forged on. 

“These sorts of things _do_ happen, Teddy. It’s not common, but sometimes the system doesn’t get it right. Sometimes names never appear, sometimes two people get the same name—”

Teddy’s laughter cut her off. “Amy, two people _don’t_ have your name. I do. _Only_ me.” 

“I know,” she replied tentatively, pacing a bit in front of the table. “I know that. But _I_ don’t have your name. And maybe that isn’t because there’s something wrong with me. Maybe it’s because there’s something wrong with the system.” 

“Couldn’t it be me?” He shook his head, that hurt expression flickering across his face. “You don’t have a name on your wrist, so why are you so sure it’s him?”

“I’m…” She twisted her fingers around her wrist with Jake’s name on it. “I’m not sure. I just… I _feel._ I don’t know how to describe it.” 

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Amy.” His lips curved down. “We’re soulmates.” 

She let out a little huff of air. “Teddy…” She took a few steps closer, looking at him seriously. “You are such a good man. You’re so kind, and you’re so responsible and hardworking. You’re smart and you’re brave and you’re honest. But I just—”

“Amy, don’t—”

“I don’t think you’re my soulmate, Teddy.” 

The room fell silent for a moment. He blinked at her, then shook his head as if he were trying to shake her words away. “If we’re not soulmates, then how do you explain this?” He pointed to his wrist. 

“I don’t know. The system is flawed. I don’t—”

“But I _feel it,_ Ames.” 

She flinched at the name, and Teddy wrinkled his eyebrows bitterly. 

“Has it always been him? From the very beginning?” He finally asked. Amy opened her mouth, then hesitated, so he laughed. “What is it about Peralta? He doesn’t have your name, Amy. He’s not your soulmate. So what, you guys liked each other? Get over it. You’re an adult, you have to follow the system just like everybody else.”

She hesitated again, words on the tip of her tongue that were much more aggressive than she needed to be. Teddy was hurt. He was lashing out because she was hurting him. Her name _was_ on his wrist, and if she left him, she knew that could mean something really terrible for him. If she really was his soulmate, but her soulmate was someone else, that left Teddy with no one. 

“He’s not your soulmate, Amy. I am. I feel it.” 

“But I _don’t_ feel it, Teddy.” The words slipped out of her before she could stop them. “If this is what soulmates feel like, I don’t want one.”

“Amy…” He shook his head, soft laughter falling from his lips. He stood up, and she backed away from him. His hands hesitated at his sides. “Amy, please don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

_“Why?”_ He scoffed. “Why didn’t you break up with me before? If you had feelings for him, why didn’t you end this? Did you ever care about me at all?” 

“Teddy—” She took a step forward, reaching for his hands despite herself. “Of _course_ I care about you—”

“Then stay.” He pleaded, his hands tightening on hers, rubbing at her wrist as if he were trying to rub Jake’s name away. “Stay with me, Amy. We can work through your feelings for Jake, we can outlast all of it. We’re meant to be together, Amy. I can feel it. So what, you wrote his name on your wrist? It’s not like you _did anything,_ right? There’s nothing to feel bad about, we can move past this. The wedding’s in two months, we have time to—”

“I kissed him.” 

Teddy faltered. He let go of her, taking a step back. “You…” He blinked slowly, sitting in the chair again. “When?” 

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to the floor. Her voice was barely audible, even in the silence of the room. “Last night.”

Teddy was quiet for a long time. Amy stood awkwardly in front of him, awaiting whatever response that she was sure she deserved, but didn’t want to face. 

He didn’t look at her. “Did you feel it?” 

Her eyebrows drew together. “Did I feel what?” 

_“It.”_ Teddy repeated. “Whatever it is you don’t feel with me. Do you feel it with him?” 

“I, uhm…” She trailed off, more uncomfortable than unsure. “I’m not sure. I think—I think yes.” 

Teddy shook his head. “Well shit.” 

Amy sat down, idly playing with one of the samples. “Yeah.” 

“My soulmate is soulmates with someone else.” 

She reached for his hand, but he tugged it away. She sighed. “I read that sometimes things like this can happen. Your soulmate could have the same name as me, but the system mixed up the birthdays. It’s just some sort of freak accident that we met and started dating.” 

He frowned, his eyes watching her fingers pulling at the color sample. “I don’t think it’s that, Amy.” He looked up at her. “I think you’re it for me.” 

“It could also be spelled wrong,” she murmured softly.

He scoffed again. “So what do we do now?” 

“I, uhm… I don’t know. I mean, I can’t marry you.” She tangled her fingers together, frowning down at her hands. “I’m sorry, Teddy.” 

He brushed his fingers through his hair. “No. Don’t be—I mean, I’m sorry…” He shook his head down at the table. “I’m sorry.” 

She frowned as she looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. 

“I should go.” 

She stood up with him when he stood. She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure if she should hug him, but he just pushed past her. She squeezed her eyes shut. This was a nightmare and she felt terrible for doing this to him, but she couldn’t live her entire life like this, married to him and wishing for something different, wondering if she’d made a mistake by not following her heart when her wrist wouldn’t pave the way, emotionally invested in another man that she inexplicably felt was meant for her. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah.” He opened the door, turning to look at her, his eyes sad. “I hope you have a good life, Amy. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.” He stepped out onto the stoop. “Goodbye.” 

She blinked at him, feeling sad in a way she hadn’t exactly expected. “Goodbye, Teddy.” 

And then he pulled the door shut, and she was left alone again. 

And then, a few minutes later, she was outside. 

She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t know what made her think this was a good idea. In truth, she hadn’t thought about it at all. She just moved, that pull toward him stronger than ever until she found herself propelled to his doorstep, knocking before she could lose her nerve. 

“Ames?” 

Jake opened the door with confusion written all across him. She swallowed, her eyes flickering across his face. She couldn’t keep her attention on just one feature. “What if…” She trailed off, trying her hardest to find the courage to continue, to say the words that she had only recently said aloud for the first time. “What if the system is wrong?” 

“What do you mean?” He raised his eyebrows at her as she stepped into the door, shutting it behind her. He was wearing gray sweatpants and an old t-shirt that she only recognized from annual Detectives Only Getaways. His hair was tousled and fluffy, like he’d just showered and had been running his fingers through it too much. He looked vaguely like his morning hadn’t been much better than hers, and that was saying something. 

He hadn’t washed her name off of his wrist entirely. It was smudged a bit, but it was more prominent than his name on her wrist was. She took a step forward. 

She shook her head, then took a deep breath. It suddenly felt like she was too close to him, but she didn’t take a step back. She stood her ground, attempting to allow the gentleness with which he regarded her to put her at ease. It didn’t really work, but at least she tried. 

“I mean, what if it’s wrong? What if there’s something wrong with me? What if I—what if we—if _this…”_ She gestured to his wrist. He reached between them, his fingers stroking gently along her inner wrist, in the place where she wanted so badly for his name to permanently be. “What if it’s wrong, Jake?” 

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with you, Amy.” 

She shook her head, reaching to grasp his left wrist the same way he held hers. “What if it’s not me? What if it’s the whole system?” 

His eyebrows drew together. “What are you saying?” 

She swallowed. “I broke up with Teddy.” 

Jake raised his eyebrows, a little incredulous gasp escaping his lips. “But he’s… he’s your—” 

“Do you see his name on my wrist?” 

His eyebrows pulled together again, eyes dropping down to where his thumb rubbed slow circles. “I don’t see mine. Not _really.”_

She let go of his wrist, her fingers hesitantly sliding down until her fingers were tangling with his. “But don’t you feel it?” 

He looked down at the floor between them. She squeezed his hand gently. He looked back up at her, his eyebrows knit together the same way they were in the evidence lockup on her thirtieth birthday. His hand slipped out of hers, cautiously moving to her waist. 

“I don’t care,” she shook her head, “about the rules, or about the system, or about who has my name on them or whose name isn’t on my wrist.” They were both breathing harder now. At some point they’d gravitated closer, and what had felt like too close when she’d walked in was nothing compared to how close they were now. Their breath mingled together in the space between their lips, and his eyes flickered down to her mouth the same way they had all those months ago, the same way they had the night before. “All I care about is you.” 

“Ames…” 

And his voice was this beautiful mixture of so many things at once. It was a hopeful plea that she hadn’t known she needed, it was a broken echo, the sound of reason overcoming desire—it was _desire_ , strong and sure and real, all stripped down to a rough timbre that she recognized from nights when they’d had one too many drinks, but still had the sense not to share a cab home, to keep _just enough_ distance between them. From last night when they slipped up, when just enough distance turned into a kiss that left them both reeling. 

It was weeks and months and years of moments in the making, of watching each other leave the bar with fingers linked with other people, of waiting for the inevitable return, nestled into the corner of the squad’s booth, of making her laugh by balancing a mozzarella stick on his nose. It was stolen sips of drinks and giving him the last bite of her bagel with too much cream cheese and holding each other’s gazes until one of them would break and then laughing until somebody walked into the room, biting their lips to keep their laughter at bay. 

It was gravitating toward one another, the only constant throughout all these years. That pull that she couldn’t fight off, that seemed to only get stronger when she tried to convince herself she was imagining it. Through triumphs and disappointments, through breakups and dates, through moments when she’d felt so alone, but he was always there with kind words veiled under a teasing joke, an arm around her shoulders, and a drink. 

He was her soulmate. And she’d spent months trying to break it all down, picking apart the reasons and the systems and the probability that it was even possible. She knew how likely it was. She knew that whatever she had with Jake, no name on her wrist could ever take away. She knew that if she did this, if she closed the distance between them, that her life would never be the same. And if a name ever appeared, it wouldn’t make her feel any differently about him. 

But she always made the smart choice. Just this once, she was tired of following rules. And Jake had plenty of chances to focus on reason. She’d begged him to follow the rules on numerous occasions. He was holding himself back, the hesitation clear in his voice and his touch on her waist. But he held her on her birthday, he clenched his jaw and held her close and he wished that things were different. He said he wanted to believe in the soulmate system, but for the first time in her life, she _didn’t_.

So she kissed him. 

She clutched at his chest, her fingers wrapping around a fold in his t-shirt, and he hummed quietly in surprise as he accepted her. He immediately responded, any hint of hesitation lost as his hands slid up her back, pulling her closer. His lips were soft and his hands were gentle, and it was over way too soon. They pulled back, their eyes trained on each other. Amy raised her eyebrows, a silent sort of _did we just do that?_ The hint of a smile tugged at Jake’s lips, and then he was pulling her in again. 

His hands tangled in her hair, tugging her to where he wanted her, like he’d been waiting just as long as her to be able to do this without inhibition. She sighed into his mouth as his tongue flicked across her bottom lip, and then he was crowding her against the back of the door, the desperation they’d been holding back making itself more known until it was practically tangible. She arched closer to him, her leg hooking around his hip. He gripped her thigh, his other arm draped around her waist, her arms wrapping tight around his neck. 

His lips didn’t leave her when they had to break apart for air. She tipped her head back to award him better access to her neck, her fingers carding through his hair as he nipped at the space below her jaw. Her sighs spurred him on, and the surprised little groan that escaped him when she rutted against him had her pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweatpants and repeating the motion. 

He leaned his forehead against hers, sucking in a sharp breath and pulling her a little closer. He groaned, biting his lip and tentatively slipping his hand under the hem of her shirt. His grip on her hip tightened, his thumb tracing along her hip bone. “Ames, are you sure?” 

She took a deep breath, her eyes on his. “I feel it with you, Jake.” He slipped his hand back out of her shirt, adjusting to guide her foot back to the floor. 

“Me too,” he whispered. “With you.” 

He kissed her softer, slower. Her hands trailed up his chest, wrapping around his neck, her fingers curling into his hair. He breathed a quiet laugh when she pulled out of the kiss, biting her lip and looking up at him through her eyelashes. His mouth slowly stretched into that genuine smile she’d been missing so much over the last few months. She laced her fingers with his tentatively, ducking under his arm and pulling him further into his apartment with a sly grin. 

Squad hangs during baseball season often happened at his place, and while she couldn’t care less about the game, she loved getting drunk and teasing Jake when the Mets were losing, which meant that she almost always showed up for those. So she knew his apartment pretty well, but he was still taken by surprise when she sidestepped the sofa and shot him a glance for approval before pushing his bedroom door open. 

She let out a breathless laugh when she saw his room. There were some clothes strewn across the floor, but the clutter throughout the room was just so _Jake_. The bedside table looked just like his desk, little trinkets and toys haphazardly spread across the surface. The poster to the left of his bed was slightly askew, and while she normally would’ve been preoccupied with that observation, she had more important things to focus on. His comforter was rumpled where he hadn’t made his bed, but she just smiled, letting go of his hand and turning to face him as she sat at the foot of his bed. 

He took a step back, all shy and small and jittery. “Amy.” 

She reached forward for his hand without a word. He looked at her for a beat, his eyes tracing up her wrist, the crease between his eyebrows softening at the sight of his faded name there. He slipped his hand into hers, closing the distance between them with no resistance when she pulled him closer. She craned her neck up to kiss him, so he dipped down to meet her halfway. He braced himself with a hand on either side of her body when she pulled at him again, and then before he knew it, he was crawling over her, helping her to slide further up the bed, one hand in her hair, the other skimming across the exposed skin where her shirt had slid up. 

She was working on pulling his shirt off when he finally hesitated again. 

“Wait—”

Amy stopped moving, her hands still gripping the hem of his shirt, her eyes wide on his. 

“I just…” He swallowed, his hand slowly coming up to run his knuckles across her cheekbone. “What if we’re wrong?” 

She smiled, the vulnerability in his voice prompting her to mirror his actions, her thumb tracing the little line that framed his sad smile. “If we’re wrong, then we’re wrong together.” 

He shook his head, his thumb tracing across her bottom lip. “I just don’t want to be the reason your life isn’t the way you always hoped it would be.” His eyes flickered across his face, settling seriously on hers. “My name isn’t on—” 

“No.” She interrupted him. “Your name isn’t on my wrist.” She took the hand that was still on her face, guiding it down, then pressing it firmly to her chest. His eyes widened. “But it _is_ right here.” 

Jake opened his mouth, then hesitated. “I, uh…” He let out a slow breath. “I know you mean your heart, but… my hand’s on your boob.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “No, I definitely meant your name’s on my boob.” 

His head dropped into the crook of her neck, his laughter vibrating against her skin. She ran her fingers through his hair, laughing with him. He propped himself up on his elbow, adoration flooding his features as he looked at her. 

“I really like you, Ames.” 

And there was something about hearing it. Something about hearing the words that she’d known for some time. Something about hearing _I really like you_ without _romantic stylez_ tacked on at the end. It had her wondering how a smile so small could feel so big, and how a system that was supposedly so accurate could have any reliability when it hadn’t gotten her and Jake right. 

His eyes crinkled in the corners when her hand framed his jaw, her other hand coming up to card through his curls gently. “I really like you, too.” She paused for a moment, warmth spreading through her when Jake closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “But Jake…” She trailed off, her smile stretching wider when he hummed and blinked his eyes open to look at her. “I really need you to kiss me.” 

“Mhm.” He nodded, shifting to fit his body against hers again. 

It turned out that his name _wasn’t_ on her chest—but his lips were. And his tongue was, and his hands were skimming down her sides, waiting for approval before he was tugging her pants down and chasing each centimeter of exposed skin with kisses that made her want him even more. 

They took their time with each other. She wasn’t sure what exactly she expected sex with Jake to be like, but the electricity in the kisses they’d shared led her to believe it would be much… _faster_. Maybe that’s not the word she was looking for. She thought the anticipation for the moment would leave them much more frantic, perhaps. But he had been so attentive, so in tune to her—which really, she supposed, she should have expected. She and Jake were always in sync, so why should this have been any different?

She was pleasantly surprised that what she thought was going to be a clumsy race to the finish line ended up being something so much more intimate. Jake’s body was still pressed against hers, his breath tickling her skin as he pressed lazy kisses to her neck. She hummed when he lightly pushed her shoulder, tipping her to roll over onto her stomach. He rolled partially on top of her, continuing his trail of kisses, his fingers coming to gently rub from her waist up to her shoulder, and yeah, she was _definitely_ going to fall asleep with him. 

They should talk about this—about what to do next—but he was so warm, and the pressure of his body on hers was so comforting, and his lips were so soft when they pressed against her shoulder blade, and she wanted to live in this moment forever, in the comfortable silence that was only broken up by the contented hums he pulled out of her when his thumb kneaded comfortingly against her shoulder. 

But then his breath hitched and his fingers slowed, and any semblance of sleep was torn from her, her eyes popping open and waiting to see what had gone wrong. 

His fingers pressed against her skin just underneath her shoulder blade. She felt his thumb drag across the same spot a few times, then a little incredulous laugh broke their comfortable silence. 

“Ames…” He laughed again. “The system isn’t wrong.” 

She twisted toward him, confused by the giant smile on his face. The system being wrong is the whole reason she showed up at his apartment in the first place. If he was so sure that the system _wasn’t_ wrong… why would that be a good thing? Wouldn’t that mean that she was Teddy’s soulmate? 

He shook his head, seemingly unable to wipe the smile off of his face. He stretched across her, reaching for her phone on the bed and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth as he did. She watched him, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He unlocked her phone with his fingerprint, something he’d suggested they exchange under the guise of _in case we need to call each other’s families during a work emergency,_ but that he actually used to change her lockscreen to different stupid pictures of him whenever she left her phone unattended. 

He pushed her playfully so that she’d roll back onto her side. He pressed a warm kiss to the top of her shoulder, then dusted a few more toward her shoulder blade. She felt his thumb rub across that spot another time, and then the camera flash was going off. She twisted to look at him as soon as the light went out, an accusatory glance thrown at him. He simply smiled at her as he turned the screen around to show her the image. 

The blanket came up around her hip, and Jake’s hand rested just above that. Her hair was twisted to the side, the waves falling messily against her pillow. One of the dimples in her lower back peeked out of the blanket, which led her to follow the curve of her spine until her eyes were focused on that spot that he’d been rubbing his thumb against. 

Jake’s name wasn’t on her wrist. And it definitely wasn’t on her chest. 

But it _was_ on her back. 

_Jacob Peralta,_ written horizontally in the same pretty font that almost every adult she knew wore on their left wrist. She laughed breathlessly, taking the phone out of his hand to zoom in and inspect it closer. He leaned his head against hers, smiling at the picture. She felt his thumb flick across his name a few more times. 

He suddenly laughed again, but this one was much closer to his usual, teasing laugh. “Wait, how did Teddy not see that?” He laughed again, and his thumb grazed his name like he couldn’t keep his hands off of it. “I mean, your birthday was like six months ago, Ames. You guys had to have…” His eyebrows drew together with realization. “Do you think he saw it and chose not to tell you?” 

“No, I don’t think he saw it.” 

“You were engaged and you didn’t have sex at all for six months?” 

She ignored his dumbfounded look. “We were having sex—”

“That doesn’t make any sense. How could he have possibly missed this if you guys were—” He stopped talking, his words cut off by an abrupt gasp. “Oh my god, Ames… He only fucked you missionary.” He leaned back, covering his mouth. “Amy. _Amy.”_

“Stop!” His laughter was tugging at her expression, which she tried to keep annoyed. Her frown faltered when he looked at her with what she could only describe as pity. 

“You poor thing…” He ran his fingers through her hair. “God, I knew he was boring, but I had no idea he was _that_ boring.” His expression turned more devious, his eyebrows raising playfully. He pressed a slow kiss to the space below her ear, then shifted so he could whisper to her. “I promise you, Amy Santiago—as your soulmate—that you will _never_ have to worry about boring missionary sex,” he paused to press another kiss against her neck, “ever again.” 

He moved straight back into kissing her neck, and she hummed, shifting against him. “Mmmm—wait. Where’s my name?” 

“Hmm?” He asked, still mid-kiss.

She shifted back away from him. He groaned in protest. 

“If we’re soulmates, but my name isn’t on your wrist… where is it?” 

“Oh.” Jake’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know.” He pushed himself to sit up, opening his arms and looking down at his body. He craned to search under his arms and as far back as he could see on his sides. He frowned, then turned so his back was facing her. “On my back?” 

“Nope.” 

He looked over his shoulder at her, grinning. “Do you think it’s on my butt?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, let me see.” 

He gasped. “Amy! If you wanted to see my butt all you had to do was ask—”

“Jake.”

“Uh-huh!” He laughed as he stood up, twisting from side to side to give her a better view. “See it?” 

“No.” She frowned. “Do you think my name is on you?” 

“Ames, c’mon. I’m sure it’s somewhere.” He turned to face her again, his hand lazily covering himself. He gestured down with his free hand. “I mean, you got a pretty good view of _that_ , you probably would’ve noticed your name there.” 

She rolled her eyes, and he reached down and grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and then lifting his leg onto the bed to inspect his inner thighs. 

“Maybe we should shave your head.” She smirked over at him when he wrinkled his face up at that suggestion. “I’m just saying… maybe it’s under your hair.” 

“Maybe I’m just broken.” He flopped over on the bed, an exasperated sigh leaving him. He wiggled closer to her until he could rest his head in her lap. She carded her fingers through his hair. “Or maybe you’re inside of me.” 

She made a quiet sound of disgust. “Do you think that can happen?” 

“Mmmm, I don’t know.” He kicked his legs up behind him, bending his knees and relaxing as she played with his hair. “Maybe I don’t have your name on me because Teddy has it on him?” 

She reached out and grabbed his ankle. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull his ankle back out of her grip, then whined when she pulled her other hand out of his hair. “No, don’t stop.” 

“I found it.” 

He twisted to try and see the bottom of his foot, but when he couldn’t, he pulled out of her lap to sit up again. He twisted his leg into his lap and looked at the bottom of his foot, where sure enough, her name was written right across the center of the arch of his foot.

“Like Toy Story,” she said through a smile. 

He gasped, smirking over at her. “Ames, I’m your Woody!” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” 

“Mmm-mmm,” he hummed, twisting until he landed in her lap again. Her hands reflexively moved back to his hair, and he closed his eyes and hummed. “You remember the first time we talked about soulmates?” 

She leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes as Jake reached up to twist her hair around his fingers. “Mmmm, you mean the day we met, when Charles said we were soulmates, he could just sense it?” 

He laughed. “No, I mean after we’d been partners for two weeks and you said—I believe the direct quote was, ‘Well Charles is an idiot because I could _never_ fall in love with you.’”

“And you told me the soulmate system wasn’t about love, but since I’m a nerd who _loves_ following the rules, I’ll pretend to be happy no matter what happens.”

When she opened her eyes, he was already looking at her. “I guess we were both wrong.” 

—

Normal wedding planning was a nightmare. 

Planning a wedding with your best friend, in a world where somehow everything finally made sense? That was easy. 

“Does it hurt?” 

Jake grinned up at her, shrugging his free shoulder. “You handle it just fine when I cuff you. This’ll be nothing—hey, don’t hit me, he might mess it up!”

The tattoo artist pulled the needle away, smiling in Amy’s direction. Amy smiled back, then gently smacked Jake on his upper arm. 

Jake scoffed at the tattoo artist. “Whose side are you on?!”

“Tattoos aren’t so bad,” he paused again to look up at Amy, smiling. “And if you can deal with dating this guy…” Jake looked at the man incredulously. They’d all been joking since they’d walked in together. “You just remind me of my husband, is all,” he continued.

Jake smiled over at Amy. “We’re engaged, by the way.” 

Amy showed off her ring when he looked over at her, surprised. “Huh. Congratulations. That’s brave. I don’t see too many people get engaged before they’re thirty, on account of the whole soulmate thing.” He made a face as he continued etching her name onto Jake’s wrist. “Actually, we don’t normally do these tattoos, on account of… what happens if somebody else’s name pops up there?” 

“Why are you doing them for us, then?” 

He smiled to himself, shrugging lightly. “Just had a feeling.” 

Jake smiled over at her. “We are soulmates.” 

“Yeah, a lot of people say that, but I’ve seen people be wrong before.” 

Amy laughed, turning around and tugging her tank top to the side so that Jake’s name was exposed below her shoulder blade. “You ever heard of the names popping up in the wrong place?”

He completely set down the tattoo gun, getting up to come inspect her back. “Would you look at that. That’s where it appeared?” 

“Mhm!” Amy let her shirt fall back into place. “It took us a while to find them, so we didn’t know we were soulmates for a few months.”

“Mine’s on the bottom of my foot.” Jake grinned. “I’m her Woody.” 

“If you say that again, I’m getting Woody Peralta tattooed on my arm.” 

“I would like nothing more than for that to happen, Ames.” 

The tattoo artist laughed, coming back over to finish up Jake’s tattoo. “You guys are cute. And this way people won’t have to wonder if you’re soulmates.” 

“Exactly,” Jake’s smile stretched wider. “I want everybody to know.” 

“Well!” He wiped the damp cloth across the tattoo a final time. “Now everybody will.” 

Jake looked down at it, his smile spreading across his face. “Ames, look.” 

He climbed off of the bench, coming over to show her. She smiled as he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Your turn.” 

She hummed, a bit of anxiety settling over her as she appraised the bench. 

“It’s really not that bad,” the man reminded her. 

“And you’re way more badass than me,” Jake agreed. 

She took a deep breath, then went to sit on the bench. The tattoo artist worked on sanitizing everything, removing the needle and switching it out with a clean one, preparing the ink. “So I saw your soulmark said Jacob. You want Jacob, or Jake?” 

“Actually, if you could just put Pineapples?” She kept a straight face even when Jake quickly shot his hands up in front of him. 

“Please do not put Pineapples on her arm.” 

“Jake is good.” She looked over at him, but he was already smiling in her direction. “Jake Peralta is my soulmate.” 

“Ya’know…” The man sat down in his chair, holding the needle, but not bringing it to her skin yet. “I don’t really know you guys, but this is a pretty cool story. Like I don’t know anybody whose mark showed up anywhere but their wrist. It’s like you had to overcome the odds just to find each other.” He inspected the new needle for a moment. “And sometimes I see people together and I’m skeptical about whether or not this soulmate thing is actually that great of a system… but then I see people like you… and I just think sometimes, they really get it right.” 

“Yeah.” Jake licked his lips, smiling over at Amy. “Sometimes they do.” 

She was still grinning at Jake when the needle pressed into her skin. “Sometimes they do.”

**Author's Note:**

> weeee hope you enjoyed!! 
> 
> send your fav soulmate AUs if you have them, I'm interested in exploring some more of them. ¨̮ 
> 
> as always I live for your comments and I hope you're all doing well!!


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